


Bad Influences

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cherry Picked Continuity, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Post War AU, Skywarp Doesn't Know What A Dog Is, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23032300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Skywarp and Optimus decide to ignore post-war politics and go out partying instead.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Optimus Prime/Skywarp
Comments: 70
Kudos: 275





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adweui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adweui/gifts).



Skywarp stood in Starscream's Iaconian office, in front of his ridiculous, oversized, golden-topped desk, and did his best to look serious and un-bullied. "I'm not coming."

"You have to come." Starscream didn't even look up.

"I'm not a politician, I _don't_ have to come. And I want no part in this peace crap."

"You're coming to the party and that's final," Starscream finally looked up to level a sharp, polished claw at him. "I need to make up numbers and you're one of _very_ few Decepticons I can trust not to climb into the energon-fountain."

"What?!" Skywarp felt a rush of anger. "I'd totally climb into an energon-fountain! Who'd been going around selling me like some kinda responsible loser?"

"You so much as dip a _finger_ into that fountain and you'll be the first 'guest' to test out Magnus's orbital prison!" Starscream threatened.

Skywarp's spark pulsed in fright. "That's for war criminals!"

"You think I won't leak what happened on Ceeni Core to the neutral media?"

Skywarp's hands curled into fists. "You push me under the hyper-train and I'm taking you down with me. I've got plenty dirt on you too, you know."

A slippery smirk curled Starscream's lips. "Nothing you can prove."

"I'm still not going," Skywarp argued, struggling against the urge to stamp a pede like a disobedient youngling. "You're not king of the universe yet, Screamer. You can't just have anyone who annoys you arrested."

"And I'm not ever going to _be_ king of the universe if you don't back me up on this, idiot," Starscream snapped without a hint of amusement, slamming a fist against his million-credit desk and rattling the light-pens inside their jewell encrusted pot. "You think Elita One won't throw us _all_ in prison if she gets her way? Cause that'll be what happens if we don't act like civilised mecha in front of the NAILs at this fragging party! So mech up, clean that grime off your thrusters, and don't embarrass me."

Skywarp's fists shook as he struggled to bottle up his anger. "I should have stayed on Earth with Thundercracker and his pet hamster!" He yelled, heading for the door.

"Dog!" Starscream snapped.

"No, _you're_ a dog!" Skywarp spluttered back, pointing from the doorway.

Starscream covered his face with his hands and made a strut-weary noise. "Elita's going to eat us alive..."

* * *

Skywarp ended up going to the party -mostly because he could never be sure Starscream wouldn't send armed guards to drag him out of his apartment and force him attend the stupid thing in stasis-cuffs. Or worse, that he wouldn't set fire to Skywarp's apartment building to try and smoke him out.

Neither of these scenarios were as hypothetical as Skywarp would have liked. Starscream was _way_ too used to getting his way.

 _Don't forget the dress code,_ Starscream sent him five minutes before he was due to leave.

Skywarp scoffed at his reflection in the window. 'Dress code'?! Screamer must have a cog loose. They didn't wear clothes so how could there be a dress code? He took off without giving it another thought.

During the flight over, part of Skywarp began to think maybe he should dive into the energon-fountain and ruin all of Starscream's careful plans just so the NAILs really would think they were all a bunch of unsalvageable, barbaric criminals and decided to vote Elita One into power so she could lock them all up. Jail time might do Screamer some good.

His spiteful schemes were put on hold when he skidded across the landing pad of The Constellation Palace -the opulent former home of an ancient Prime who had worshipped the stars as deities, and current popular tourist attraction. The palace had stayed mostly intact throughout the war thanks to it's diamond-reinforced structure and as such, was still in possession of much of it's original beauty. Many of the surrounding towers and buildings in the centre of Iacon had been less fortunate, and though now 'repaired', they were still ugly and battle scarred. The Constellation Palace stood out like a literal diamond in the rough.

Skywarp looked back at where his landing had left a big ugly black streak of soot across the translucent landing pad. He sheepishly tried to rub some of it away with his foot, but only served to make the mess worse when his dirt encrusted treads left more scuffs. "Oops."

Deciding it was a lost cause he moved on, hoping no one had seen. Unfortunately when he lifted his head he found two guards glaring at him from the doorway into the palace. They were NAILs.

"Hi," Skywarp lifted a hand awkwardly, "Nice tower you got here."

One of the NAILs stared at him. The other was glaring at the mess Skywarp had left on the landing pad. Deciding it was best not to introduce himself, Skywarp ducked his helm and quickly stepped on through.

"See what I mean?" he heard one of them say. "Fragging Cons."

Skywarp's wings stiffened in annoyance but he kept on walking. Starscream would kill him if he started a fight before he'd even officially arrived at the party.

The palace was vast and complicated, but someone had had the foresight to post directions to the grand hall where the party was taking place. Skywarp was grateful they had. Every corridor seemed to split into three more, and then another three from there. They spread out into an impossible labyrinth like the branches of a tree. Eventually he could hear the twinkle of soft, quiet music up ahead and quickened his pace.

The corridor opened up into a vast ballroom. Luminous crystals hung from the domed ceiling, giving the room and everything in it a heavenly golden tint. The already opulent furnishings looked twice as priceless, as did everyone occupying the room.

But that might have been all the finery they were wearing.

Fashion wasn't one of Skywarp's interests (which Starscream claimed was a crime against his own Vosian heritage) so he was unfamiliar with a lot of the robes and scarfs and chains everyone seemed to we wearing. He assumed it was a NAIL thing.

Bunch of stuck up losers.

Feeling like the awkward one out, he craned his neck as he searched for company and soon spied a gleaming white wing tip. He headed off in that direction, through a sea of over-dressed mecha, earning glares and mutters when he knocked shoulders and stepped on pedes. He broke through the crowd and found Starscream speaking with one of the higher ranking NAILs less than a metre away, a tall glass of lilac energon in his hand.

Skywarp began to approach, then froze when he realised it wasn't _just_ the NAILs who'd dressed up.

Starscream was polished up to a mirror shine and wearing a royal red cloak which drapped across his left side. It was trimmed with glittering alien fur and so long it pooled on the polished floor by his foot.

So _that's_ what he'd meant by dress-code. Skywarp wished he'd bothered to wax now, or had at least remembered Starscream's request that he clean the muck out of his treads.

He was about to slip back into the crowd unseen by his judgemental trine-mate, but it was too late, Starscream _saw_ him, his optics focussing in on him over the NAIL's shoulder and hardening with a burning fury. Skywarp waved awkwardly. Starscream did not wave back.

His comm pinged.

 _I will kill you_ , was all it read.

Skywarp thought it best not to wait around for Starscream to finish his conversation so he could drag him off to some hidden room in this massive palace and leave him there to be lost forever, so he moved on to find company elsewhere.

The guests were mostly NAILs. Skywarp thought he recognised some of the Autobots but that in no way meant he should go up and talk to them. The only other Decepticons present were Megatron, who looked like he had been wrestled into his formal wear and was so unhappy about it he was choosing to stand in the corner and scowl instead of mingling, and Soundwave, who was actually doing a pretty decent job of winning some NAILs over.

Skywarp looked around the room full of mecha and felt a surge of crippling loneliness rise in him. Parts of the war had sucked (okay, most of it had sucked), but they'd still all been in it together. Now it felt like everyone had scattered themselves across the universe. The one thing that had kept them all together was gone, so it was only natural that they'd drift apart. Even Thundercracker...

"You look like you could use a drink?"

A low baritone cut through the light airy atmosphere of the party and knocked Skywarp back into memories of smoke and heat, of ducking laser-fire and explosions, of being tackled out of the sky and trading punches with warriors twice his size. His battle computer flashed online and he flinched back, arms up, tense and alert.

Optimus Prime's cool blue optics peered down at him. He was holding two glasses of energon.

"Oh," Skywarp straightened up out of his defensive stance, hoping the flare of his still panicked spark couldn't be seen through his armour plating. "...Thank you."

He took the drink quickly, his hands shaking. The Prime's optics focused in his fingers.

"My apologies. It was not my intention to sneak up on you."

It was riddiclous to think a mech as large as Prime could sneak up on anyone. Skywarp had just been too lost in his own miserable thoughts to notice his arrival. He downed the energon in three big gulps so he wouldn't have to answer. It tasted like grease but the extra charge soothed frayed nerves.

"Shouldn't you be with Starscream?" The Prime asked, looking around, like Skywarp was an unattended new-spark who'd wandered too far from his parent.

"I don't think he wants to be associated with me," Skywarp mumbled, glancing in Starscream's direction. In the middle of the grand hall he was rather hard to miss. "Shouldn't you be with Elita?"

The Prime lifted his helm. Curious. Skywarp followed his gaze to one of the balconies on the upper level overlooking the main floor. Elita One stood out in all her pink glory. She, like everyone else, had been done up for the occasion, but she wasn't bothering with any frivolous fabrics or jewels. She wore her signature blaster strapped to her back and two silver ceremonial blades hung from a belt around her waist. She was speaking with a group of NAILs who, even at this distance, looked terrified of her.

"Elita feels my presence may undermine hers tonight," Prime explained.

Skywarp nodded, "You are the Prime."

Prime's optics crinkled like he was smiling under his face-mask. "It's not a matter of infamy. She says I'm taking these social gatherings too lightly. I make too many jokes."

Skywarp nodded, glancing at Elita again. The NAIL she was speaking at was trying to retreat behind a pillar, but she was still advancing. Relentless. Skywarp felt a sudden kinship with Optimus. At least he wasn't the only one being micromanaged.

"I know what you mean. Screamer think's I'm going to try to jump in the energon-fountain or something."

"It would be no great shame if you did," Optimus said lightly, instead of discouraging him. "Such decadence is irresponsible in these times. And we have nothing to celebrate."

"You don't like this peace thing either?"

"I have always petitioned for peace," Optimus lifted a finger. "But simply calling an end to the fighting will not be enough to save our culture, or bring back the many lives so needlessly lost. We should be taking steps to ensure this never happens again, not scrambling over what's left, and who is to blame."

Optimus's words made Skywarp feel uncomfortable. He hadn't ever given much thought to all the things they had lost over the centuries and centuries of fighting. To be fair, he had never had much to begin with. Mourning the dead and lost friends he had made had been things to worry about later, when he didn't have to concentrate on saving his own armour.

He guessed ...he guessed now was later.

"Yeah, why _are_ we having a party?!" He exclaimed.

Optimus shrugged, a casual gesture Skywarp never would have expected to witness from him. It was hard to tell with the mask, but he looked sad, and probably didn't want to be here anymore than Skywarp did, at this stupid party full of NAILs who hated them anyway just because they'd had the principles to stand up and fight for something. Even if they had lost themselves along the way.

And committed a war crime or two.

"You wanna get out of here?"

Optimus blinked and titled his head down to look at him. "Me?"

"No," Skywarp frowned, "I'm talking to the pillar - yes, _you_. You wanna get some real drinks maybe?" He gave his empty glass a sniff and reared back. "This stuff is more oil than energon."

Optimus set his half finished drink on top of a passing server drone.

"Where did you have in mind?"

Skywarp grinned.

* * *

Optimus didn't know a great deal about seekers, or fliers in general. The only real experience he had had with the entire culture was _Starscream_ , and _that_ seeker hadn't left Optimus with a desire to learn much more.

Skywarp was unexpectedly different to the infamous Air Commander though, and although Optimus had never prescribed to the idea that a frame-type was all alike, he was surprised by how _un_ -alike members of the same trine could be.

Skywarp was honest, and genuine, and youthful, and blunt. And in his words; the party was boring and the energon sucked and the NAILs were bad company so why not go looking for fun elsewhere? Optimus would have otherwise waited until it felt appropriate to leave and spent the rest of his evening in his apartment alone, poring over election poles and working on Elita's campaign.

Optimus hadn't been aware of any nightclubs opening in the rebuilt city, but Skywarp seemed to know them all, and well enough to know which was worth dragging a Prime halfway across the city to visit. Optimus didn't catch the name above the door before Skywarp was teleporting them past the door-mecha and directly into the midst of the merrymaking.

The music was loud and thrummed in Optimus's audials, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how many millions of years it had been since he was young.

"There's a free table, quick!" Skywarp yelled over the music, darting from Optimus's side to claim it.

It was just on the edge of the dance floor. Optimus's audials wouldn't be getting any reprieve tonight.

"I'm not sure this was the best idea," Optimus leaned across the sticky surface to be heard in Skywarp's audial. "I have a lot of work to get back to-"

"Work?!" Skywarp's face scrunched up in confusion. "Aren't you retired?! No more work, remember?"

"I am working on Elita's election campaign," Optimus explained.

"Why she wanna run everything anyway?" Skywarp scoffed. "Why would _anyone_ want to rule this planet? It's trashed! Besides, all power ever seems to do is make mecha busy all the time and bad tempered. Look at Starscream?! Look at Elita One."

"Elita One is not bad tempered," Optimus defended his friend. "She is spirited."

Skywarp gave him a skeptical look.

"Granted, she is ambitious-"

"She's _ruthless_ ," Skywarp interrupted.

"And Megatron wasn't?"

"Yeah, because we really want another Megatron," Skywarp mumbled, hardly audible over the music. "Maybe you should just run everything again. You always seem to know what you're doing."

Optimus shook his helm, his tank swirling unpleasantly at the mere idea. "I can't imagine anything worse."

Skywarp began drawing a picture on the table with his finger in a spill of energon. He didn't further the conversation. When he was done, he looked up thoughtfully, then smiled, bright and dazzling in the twinkling lights of the club.

"You wanna dance?"

Optimus looked at the crowded dance-floor full of mecha gyrating and undulating to the sway of the music. It was a style of dancing far out of his comfort zone. But Skywarp's hand was curling around his fingers, tugging him out of his seat. Optimus was strong enough to resist, but he found himself following the high arches of purple wings regardless. Skywarp led him out into the centre of the floor and brought Optimus's hands to his warm, generous hips. Optimus had had too many drinks to think to move them higher.

He felt foolish and awkward at first, an old war-beaten Prime in the middle of some roaring club with a seeker he barely knew outside of battle-statistics, but Skywarp's smile and guiding hand soon had him at ease.

It was dark and loud and crowded, but the dance floor seemed theirs alone. The party they had abandoned and the election campaign he should have been working on were far from his mind when Skywarp twirled on his heel and stumbled into his chest with laugh. Despite the charge of energon weighing down on Optimus's limbs, he felt lighter than air, without a care in the world.

* * *

Skywarp woke sometime late the next day, a weird taste in his mouth and a heavy feeling in his processor. He blinked up at his ceiling, finding his vision staticky around the edges. A HUD warning popped up, telling him self repair was still working on his ankle. He shifted it and winced at a flair of pain that shot up his leg. Funny, he didn't remember injuring that last night.

He didn't really remember _much_ of last night though.

It soon became apparent what had woken him when a loud slam echoed through his modest apartment. He rose onto his forearms, the knotted mess his sheets had become falling to his lap, and leaned to the side to peer around the wall and look into the open plan living room, just in time to see a door sweep open and emit a furious Starscream.

"A- _ha_!" Starscream spotted him, pointing across the apartment. "Nice to see you're alive!"

Starscream's grating vocaliser was like a drill in the side of Skywarp's helm. He groaned and lifted the covers over his head, trying to muffle it. He heard a scrape and curse like Starscream had just tripped over the mess littering his floor, but it didn't stop his trine-leader's incoming condemnation for long.

"Not once, in five millions years, has _anyone_ ever had the audacity to stand _me_ up!" Starscream's voice was getting closer. Skywarp cringed under the covers.

"But _you_ -!" The covers were whipped away and Skywarp was staring up at Starscream's laser bright optics. "My own trine-mate, left me stranded out there! All night! Talking to NAILs!?"

Skywarp lifted his hand apologetically, "I stayed a little while-"

"Five minutes!" Starscream threw the covers back down angrily. "And you turned up looking like a homeless dockworker. Where were you?!"

A smile worked it's way across Skywarp's mouth as he remembered Prime's shellshocked expression on the dance floor, how his regal majestic voice had began to drawl and slur after the fifth, sixth, then seventh drinks.

"...I came here," He lied.

Starscream's mouth pressed into a hard thin line. "You not only look like a dockworker but you _smell_ like one too. Whatever seediness you were up to last night, keep it quiet. A scandal from you is the last thing my election needs."

"But I-"

He was cut off by a burst of muffled barks. He sat up again, recognising the faint noise but struggling to understand how he could be hearing it. It was soon followed by a cautious knock on the door outside. " _Starscream? Can we come in now_?"

Skywarp shot out of berth, hangover be damned, because he _recognised_ that low, soothing voice. He punched the door-panel and it swept away to reveal the one person he missed most of all.

"Thundercracker!" He yelled, his voice climbing a full octave in his excitement. He flung his arms around him and a feeling like a puzzle piece slotting back into place overcame his spark. Thundercracker clung back with a laugh, and Skywarp squeezed him so hard armour began to groan.

"'Warp," Thundercracker wheezed.

"How are you here?" Skywarp exclaimed, releasing him and holding him at arms length, taking him in.

Thundercracker opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by another burst of muffled barks. Skywarp looked down at their feet to find Buster, wearing a tiny little space suite, barking so vehemently she was fogging up the inside of her visor.

"And you brought your cat!" Skywarp grinned, crouching down to rub the tip of his index fingers across her head.

"She's a dog, 'Warp."

"Don't bother," Starscream muttered, coming up behind them. "I invited Thundercracker, as a ... _gift_ for you." Starscream sneered like his own thoughtful gesture was a kind of weakness. "He was supposed to surprise you last night. But of course, _you_ were no where to be seen."

Skywarp did feel a little guilty now. "Sorry, I guess." He shrugged, then turned to Thundercracker. "I've missed you."

"It's only been a month."

"Yeah but I've had no one but Screamer for company," Skywarp thumbed back to the scowling seeker behind them. "And he's been busy with stupid politics, and being the planet's official Megatron-wrangler."

A thought suddenly came to mind. He turned to Starscream. "Where is Megatron anyway? I thought you weren't supposed to leave him unattended?"

Starscream lifted his hand to study his claws, looking bored, "I left him in the oil bath. He fell asleep so I cuffed him to the piping."

Skywarp nodded acceptingly. Sounded about right.

* * *

Halfway across the city, Optimus's morning was equally loud. In fact, arguably more so.

Unused to drinking such toxic energon, he was fairing much worse than Skywarp, and had fully convinced himself that he was about to expire. He was in the midst of motivating himself to lift his arm so he could activate his commlink and summon Ratchet to rescue him, when he, like Skywarp, was set upon by unexpected visitors.

His front door blew inwards with a loud crash, and as hungover as he was, Optimus shot up in shock, and very nearly violently purged his tanks. He sat, hunched over and clutching at his rolling tanks, as an armed battalion led by Elita One came storming into his apartment. They spread out like they were searching for one of the planet's Most Wanted, checking every nook and cranny of the apartment.

Optimus stared in stunned silence until Elita finally noticed him looking at her from his berth and holstered her oversized blaster.

"Optimus!" She rushed towards him. "What happened to you last night?"

Optimus blinked, wondering what _had_ happened that would warrant this. "...Am I under arrest?"

Elita looked impatient, "We thought you'd been kidnapped."

Optimus was now even more confused. "Why- what- because I left the party early?"

"No," Elita leaned back and towered over him imposingly. "Because you sent me six incoherent voicemails. It sounded like you'd been drugged." Her olfactory crinkled. "Now I'm beginning to realise you were just ...drunk."

Optimus felt his mood turn, helped by his crippling hangover. "As a civilian I'm perfectly within my rights to-"

"Drink yourself into a coma and wake up in the gutter?" Elita arched a brow.

"I woke up in _my_ berth," Optimus protested. "Five minutes ago. To _this_."

"It's just ...unlike you," Elita said, tone becoming gentle. "Perhaps I overreacted-"

Optimus made a show of looking around the apartment, his blown off door, and the armed guards loitering around uncomfortably. Elita sighed and sat on the edge of his berth. "In my defence you were last seen in the company of Decepticons."

"The war is over, Elita."

"The war may be over, but Starscream will _always_ be Starscream," she smiled at him softly, displaying a gentleness so few were permitted to witness in her. "Four million years of war, and you're still too trusting."

She then punched his shoulder playfully (painfully) before standing up. Optimus swayed with the blow, suddenly feeling nauseous again. She ordered her personal guard out ahead of her, but paused in Optimus's blown open doorway.

"You've got a little something there by the way," she said, brushing the left side of her neck.

Optimus waited until she'd left before stumbling his way to the nearest reflective surface. He tilted his neck to the side and spied not only a cluster of crumpled throat cabling, like someone had _bitten_ him, but a smudge of purple paint along his clavicle seam too.

He dropped his hand and stared at it.

It appeared he and Skywarp had done more than just drinking and dancing last night.

He bent over and groaned, his fuel tank full of high-grade and electro-flies now.

* * *

Skywarp didn't like fuelling at the fancy places Starscream always picked, but Thundercracker's brief return to planet made it a 'special occasion', so he decided to not throw a fit about being dragged into the city centre so they could fuel at some unpronounceable establishment at the top of a spiralling tower overlooking a crystal garden. The only good thing about it was it was high up, and open air.

The bad things were almost too numerous to count. There were only three other tables and every single customer was looking at them like they'd stepped in one of Buster's 'surprises' and were walking it through the building.

"Can't we just go to Maccadams?" Skywarp couldn't resist one little complaint when they sat down at their table next to the balcony railing.

"No." Starscream turned to Thundercacker, "So how fairs Earth? Has the human species died off yet?"

Skywarp slumped back and folded his arms grumpily. Thundercracker and Starscream talked about typically boring things -Thundercracker's made-up sounding career writing movies about explosions, what Starscream planned to do to everyone who had ever crossed him when he ruled the universe, the usual stuff. Skywarp entertained himself watching Buster, who had been released from her space-suite prison and put in an oxygenated dome in the centre of the table -because apparently, exotic oxygen-breathing pets had become a fad among the upper Cybertronian echelons.

The server drone gave them seven different types of fuel, all in unnatural colours. Starscream mixed what appeared to be a random two together and drank it. Skywarp reached for a safe looking orange one, but Starscream seized his wrist before he could throw it back.

"You can't drink that straight. You'll burn your glossa off."

Skywarp wisely let Starscream mix the drinks.

He was honestly contemplating how angry Starscream would be if he vaulted himself over the edge of the balcony railing and took refuge among the garden's huge towering blue crystals below, when his comm-link began to beep. Buster jumped and began to bark. Skywarp slapped a hand over his wrist to muffle the noise and pushed his chair back, grinning unconvincingly when Starscream's narrowed optics pinned him with a glare.

"Er, I gotta take this," he said, thankful for the reprieve.

"Who is it?" Thundercracker asked, curious.

"Yes Skywarp," Starscream hissed quietly, downright suspicious. "Who would be calling _you_?"

"I have friends."

"Not beyond this table you don't," Starscream swirled his glass.

"Don't be mean," Thundercracker murmured.

"I'm being honest," Starscream grumbled.

Thundercracker flashed Starscream a look that signalled an imminent lecture, so Skywarp took that as his cue to slip into the lobby of the fancy establishment. He was still close enough to them to be able to hear Starscream's vocaliser pitching up with indignity as whatever reprimand Thundercracker was giving him struck too close to home.

The frequency wasn't one Skywarp recognised, but seeing as the alternative was returning to the table, he answered it anyway. "Skywarp."

" _Skywarp_?" A low voice crackled over the comm speakers. Skywarp bent closer, thinking his audials were malfunctioning, because it sounded like - " _It's Optimus. Prime."_

Skywarp's mouth worked silently.

The comm crackled like someone was clearing their vocaliser. " _I hope you don't mind, I had to use less than reputable methods to discover your comm frequency."_

"No." Skywarp forced himself to make a noise, his cheeks warming when his tone came out strained. "I mean, no, of course not. I don't mind. Hi, I guess."

He cursed himself internally. He couldn't sound a little more enthusiastic?!

" _Yes, hello,_ " Prime's voice was warm and smooth through the speakers. " _You sound distracted, I hope I'm not interrupting-"_

"No no," Skywarp quickly glanced around the wall to check his trine were still mid-argument. Starscream now appeared to be arguing with Thundercracker over whether the rust stick he was brandishing was edible for Buster. "I'm not busy. I'm just ...surprised you called. I didn't think you'd even wake up this morning, after what you drank last night."

There was a low chuckle. " _I very nearly didn't. I woke to more than my fair share of reprimands for disappearing all night too."_

"Tell me about it," Skywarp leant back against the wall. "Screamer's punishing me with fine dinning as we speak."

" _He is uniquely talented in methods of torture."_ Optimus agreed. " _Elita stormed my apartment with a battalion this morning,_ "

Skywarp felt a wave of sympathy. Maybe Starscream wasn't so bad after all. "Sorry I got you in trouble."

" _It's no trouble_."

Skywarp looked up when he heard a chair scrape loudly. He glanced around the wall and saw Starscream getting up. "Scrap," he muttered. "Listen, Op- Prime- sir-"

" _Optimus_."

Skywarp bit his bottom lip when a giddy charge buzzed through his frame. "Optimus," he repeated softly. "I've gotta go, thanks for last night. It was great." He said in a hasty rush, Starscream rapidly approaching his hiding spot.

" _I was hoping I could see you again."_

"Yeah sure," Skywarp hovered his finger over the disconnect button. "We'll be suffering through another boring party together in no time."

" _I meant-"_

"Skywarp!" Starscream spotted him.

"Gotta-go-bye!" Skywarp slapped the disconnect button just as Starscream came to stand in front of him. "Hey Screamer."

"Who were you talking to?"

Skywarp wracked his processor. "Frenzy. He needed advice."

"From you?"

"For a prank."

Starscream studied him closely for a moment, then nodded. He waved him back to the table. "Come, desert is being served."

Skywarp blew out a breath of hot air, wondering how this dumb overpriced place was going to ruin his favourite part of fuelling for him.

* * *

Optimus felt uncomfortable at the idea of calling Skywarp again, and foolish for having done so in the first place. From rumours he remembered before the war, seekers had a more carefree attitude towards romance. If it could even be called that. They were 'easy' he remembered a data analyst resentfully telling him once, and 'not worth it'. Optimus had assumed it was merely the mutterings of a spurned admirer, but now he was beginning to wonder if there had been genuine truth to it.

Perhaps seekers like Skywarp did go around putting their mouths on the necks of anyone they fancied?

Or maybe Skywarp had simply woken up the next morning and realised the rambunctiousness of the night before had all been a huge mistake.

Regret wasn't a feeling Optimus shared in regards to that evening, but life was full of disappointments, and if Skywarp wasn't interested he supposed he should simply concentrate on his work load and move on.

Even if he did find his mind wandering back to Skywarp every time a pair of wings entered his sight lines. _Or_ that specific shade of lilac he wore. He supposed there were worse things to occupy ones processor.

It wasn't at another stifling party that he next ran into the object of his admiration anyway, but at a press conference.

Elita had burst into his office less than a hour ago with the news that the damaged left wing of Iacon East Medcentre had collapsed during repairs and crushed the legs of a construction worker. And if _that_ wasn't bad enough, Starscream was already at the scene with dozens of media drones and an award-winning performance, making himself look empathetic, and likeable, and not at all like the misanthrope he actually was.

Optimus had commented that it was somewhat ironic the construction worker had been crushed by a medcentre of all things. Elita had then told him he wasn't allowed to make anymore jokes. Or speak at all, for that matter.

Which was why he was lingering out of view, watching Elita stand tall and unswayed in front of a dozen cameras as she gave her speech on improving safety regulations and updating construction equipment. While in the background, Starscream walked around on some rubble with his own media drones and did his level best to make it look like he was 'helping'.

Optimus sighed.

Something _popped_ behind him. "Boy, am I glad to see you."

It was Optimus's turn to jump at the unexpected greeting. Skywarp had teleported a mere inch from his back and was now slipping elegantly around to stand at his side, an amused grin lighting up his face. "Fifty credits says Screamer falls over."

Optimus looked across the rubble of the half collapsed medcentre to where Starscream was wobbling precariously, arms pinwheeling. "Who's idea was it to have him do this?" He asked, wondering what sadistic campaign manager Starscream must have hired.

"Soundwave." Skywarp pointed towards the blue mech stood just out of range of the cameras. Soundwave's face was hidden behind visor and mask, but something about the way he was standing implied he was greatly amused at the sight of Starscream stumbling and tripping over steel beams.

Optimus looked around for the rest of the Decepticon entourage, wondering why Skywarp would bother to speak with him. "Where is your trine-mate, Thundercracker? I was under the impression he was visiting."

He was actually less 'under the impression' and more 'imformed by intellgience agents (thank you, Jazz) over the matter'. Skywarp didn't suspect otherwise though. He shrugged.

"He had to go back to Earth," he said sadly, looking down at his pedes. "Cybertron's not good for his pet horse."

Optimus blinked. "I thought he had a dog?"

Skywarp didn't appear to hear him. "I wish he'd come back home, but he loves Earth and those dumb squishies too much. He says he's not ready to leave."

Optimus felt awash with sympathy. He knew how it felt to be separated from loved ones. He didn't fully understand the intricacies of a trine-bond, but he could imagine Thundercracker meant a great deal to Skywarp. "You could visit him?"

Skywarp mumbled something noncommittal about it being a long boring journey. Being a teleporter, Optimus could guess travelling wasn't one of Skywarp's favourite things. "I would come with you, if you desired the company?"

Skywarp's helm snapped up, his optics round wide disks of red. "Really?"

"I'm always happy to revisit one of my favourite planets," Optimus verified quickly, not wanting to appear too desperate.

Skywarp smiled that bright dazzling smile again. Optimus looked away and cleared his throat before he became too caught up in Skywarp's natural charm. Some of the media drones were beginning to deactivate and retreat from the scene. Elita had finished her speech and Starscream was stranded out in the rubble, yelling for help.

"I suppose that's your cue," Optimus prompted Skywarp.

"He's fine," Skywarp flapped a dismissive servo and moved to stand in front of him, preventing him from wandering off. "You're probably really busy being a Prime and stuff, but I was wondering-"

"Yes," Optimus said immediately, without thinking,

Skywarp blinked. Optimus bit his lip behind the mask at how ridiculous he was being. "Sorry, you were saying-"

A knowing smirk began to curl Skywarp's lips, "There's this awful fuelling place Starscream took me to, overlooking the crystal gardens. You wanna come?"

Optimus arched a brow. " _Awful_ , you say?"

Skywarp nodded, "Really pretentious. And weird. And kinda inedible."

Starscream was still screaming for Skywarp to teleport to him in the background, so Optimus didn't have a lot of time to think about it.

Not that he needed to.

"Yes, I'd love to."

Skywarp grinned, shot him a finger gun, and teleported across the scene. Optimus watched from a distance as he and Starscream bickered with each other balanced on one precarious steel beam. Whatever they said to one another must have led to an argument, as Starscream swung a mean punch at Skywarp. Skywarp stepped back, avoiding the blow, and Starscream overbalanced and fell off the beam with a clang that echoed across the entire area.

* * *

"Why are there so many different colours?" Optimus asked Skywarp, cautiously peering at the containers of multicoloured fuel that had been placed in front of them.

Skywarp shrugged, "Don't touch the orange one. Screamer says it melts steel."

Optimus wisely drew his hand back.

Although a lot of the pretentiousness of the establishment seemed unnecessary and flashy, at least the atmosphere was quiet and the view pleasant- the view being both the crystal gardens below and Skywarp sat opposite him, cautiously poking a digit into the glass full of red fuel to see what would happen. With the sky darkening the crystals in the garden below were beginning to glow with radiation, illuminating the balcony they sat at. The edge of Skywarp's right wing was cast in blue light, and it highlighted how clean and smooth the paneling was. Optimus always wondered how seeker's kept them in such good shape. He also wondered what they felt like...

Optimus drew out of his musings when Skywarp withdrew his finger from the glass and popped it into his mouth.

"It's safe," he said, pushing the glass towards Optimus.

"This is a far cry from that last place you took me too," Optimus said, taking the drink gratefully and thinking back to the night in question, the fuzzy memories of heat, darkness, and flashing lights, Skywarp's optics hooded and his face cast in shadow as he moved with the throng of other dancers.

Skywarp seemed to read his processor. He wriggled his brows. "At least here I can't make you dance."

"I happen to be an accomplished dancer, I'll have you know," Optimus lifted his chin proudly.

"None of that 'accomplishment' came out that night," Skywarp smirked. "The waltz ain't exactly designed for the club."

"It's not designed for much these days," Optimus lamented, leaning back in his seat. "It's a lost art."

"Maybe you could teach me," Skywarp said flippantly, taking a drink. Optimus watched his throat work as he swallowed. He had a long, elegant neck for a warrior.

Optimus tore his optics away and studied his face instead, searching for some hint that he was kidding. He wasn't. "Perhaps I could."

"Hey, you think you could dance the waltz to rock n' roll?" Skywarp seemed excited, leaning across the table eagerly.

Optimus had no concept of what 'rock n' roll' was, "I'm not sure. I'm not familiar with-"

"It's music from Earth!" Skywarp was suddenly speaking a lot faster (and louder) with his excitement. Some of the other dinners were glaring their way. Optimus didn't care in the slightest. "Earth sucks but they did one thing alright I guess," Skywarp said, standing suddenly and extending out a hand for Optimus too take. "Come on, I've got some at my apartment."

Optimus hesitated. They had only just arrived and had barely touched the fuel, and now Skywarp was inviting him to his apartment. The reasoning seemed innocent and genuine, and friendly. Just friendly. He decided not to read too much into it.

He didn't have time to deliberate on whether or not this was going to be an appropriate way to spend the evening, because never one to wait around, Skywarp snatched up his hand, and teleported them right off the balcony and directly into his own apartment somewhere on the other side of the city.

Optimus's processor span, not just from the sudden shift in time and space, his gyros spinning, but from the sudden overwhelming sight of Skywarp's messy, chaotic apartment. It was like a sensory explosion. It was an open studio apartment, which meant everything Skywarp had ever owned was on view and crammed in. Optimus had to shutter his optics for a moment to brace himself.

"Did you pay for the fuel?" Was the first thing to come to his recovering head. Elita would be annoyed if tomorrow's headlines were ' _Dine And Dash; Prime Skips Out On Paying Fuel Bill Like He's Skipping Out On The Planet's Future'._

"They'll charge it to Screamer," Skywarp darted away from him and started digging through boxes.

Optimus took one wobbly step after him, tripped on something, stumbled, and _crunched_ something underfoot.

He lifted his pede nervously to find a data-pad. He hastily kicked it under a nearby sofa.

"Here, listen to this!" Skywarp called to him, slotting a tiny prehistoric looking disk into a small machine sat on the shelve above his berth. He leaned in close to the controls and squinted as he concentrated on pressing the tiny buttons with his blunt digits.

Music began to drift out of speakers. Skywarp turned a dial and the sound of electric guitars strumming and drum kits booming filled the small space. Optimus dampened the sensitivity of his audials.

"Good huh?" Skywarp leap over piles of stuff to get back to him, grabbing his hands. His fingers were small and nibble in Optimus's. "They call this 'classic rock'."

Optimus hadn't been aware humans had been around long enough to have 'classic' versions of their music. The song was, tragically, impossible to waltz to, and Optimus feared he'd missed his opportunity to hold Skywarp close under the guise of teaching him the steps.

"This is a little too upbeat for a waltz."

"We'll improvise," Skywarp grabbed Optimus's waist anyway. "Like this?"

"Here," Optimus took one of Skywarp's hands in his own and placed Skywarp's other on his shoulder. He took Skywarp's waist himself. His palm fit over the slope of Skywarp's armour nicely.

"Like this," he stepped back. Skywarp followed him, a natural mover, as all seekers were.

"This is easy," Skywarp said after a few more steps, completely out of time to the blaring rock music. Optimus could barely hear it anyway. All his sensors seemed to have zeroed in on Skywarp. "Maybe next I can teach you free-style?"

Optimus's optics flashed at the idea of him spinning around on his head or performing overly ambitious flips and kicks like he'd seen Jazz and Blaster do on the rare occasions an Autobot celebration had turned into an out of control rave.

Skywarp laughed before he could figure out how to decline politely. "You're joking," Optimus realised.

"No offence, Prime, but I think your arm would fall off if you tried any of my moves."

"Optimus," He reminded him, hand flexing on Skywarp's hip. "Call me Optimus."

Skywarp's optics dimmed a little. His voice softened, "Yeah, Optimus."

The chaotic rock song was coming to an end, volume fading towards the finish. Optimus was still holding Skywarp close as they swayed. He took a step forward, but Skywarp made his first mistake, stepping in as well. His chest clinked Skywarp's cockpit. He made a noise of apology, but Skywarp leant up, suddenly shockingly close, big red optics filling his vision. Optimus froze in place. Skywarp's nose brushed the front of his mask, his warm breath dusting the plate.

Optimus was so dumbstruck by his proximity it took him a full three spark beats to realise what Skywarp wanted.

Wordlessly he split the mask down the middle so it could slide away. He wet his lips, and Skywarp lingered long enough to flash him a charmed smile before diving in, kissing him.

The next song on the playlist started blaring out and Optimus stumbled into the kiss in surprise. He could feel Skywarp's smile before lips began to push and pull apart at his own. Swept up in the moment he let Skywarp lead at first, enamored by his confidence and skill.

A bold glossa swept across his bottom lip, and with a rev of his engine and fierce surge of passion, Optimus turned the tables and used his greater stature to regain control, sliding a hand around the back of Skywarp's head and holding him in place as he kissed him back. Skywarp whined softly, bringing his arms up to wrap them around Optimus's neck, one of his legs bending at the knee so he could slide it between Optimus's. Optimus took him firmly by the hips and drew him closer, his thumbs sliding over warm paneling, infatuated with the exaggerated curve of a seeker's waist.

The song changed twice over before they ended up in Skywarp's berth. Optimus fell across it onto his back, wincing at the lumps and bumps hidden beneath the sheets now digging into his back. He reached behind himself and pulled out an empty energon cube. Skywarp climbed over him with an unapologetic grin, taking it from his hand and throwing it over his shoulder. It crashed somewhere in the mess of the room.

Optimus laid flat as Skywarp straddled his hips. A hand braced against his shoulder when Skywarp leaned over him to reach the stereo controls above the berth. He began changing the songs, perhaps looking for something to better suite the mood. Optimus waited patiently, looking up at the cockpit hovering over him and his own blue optic'd reflection in the glass. He reached up to touch Skywarp as the seeker continued fiddling with the stereo, cupping his cockpit and stroking the golden glass. It was warm and flawless. Skywarp twitched and wriggled like his touch was tickling, and Optimus craned his neck so he could put his mouth on the glass.

"Optimus!" Skywarp half-laughed, half-cried.

Optimus purred deeply and wrapped his arms around him, content to wait no longer. He tugged Skywarp down and rolled them, ignoring the crunches and cracks of the mess in the berth breaking under their weight.

As Optimus touched Skywarp he tried desperately to recall what else he had heard about seekers. Fact or heresy, he no longer cared. He brushed Skywarp's wings hesitantly, awed how they responded, flaps and panels shifting and twitching from the lightest graze. He wanted to explore more, knowing they were sensitive, but was unsure what was appropriate. He didn't have to worry. Skywarp guided his hands.

"Here," he trailed Optimus's large hand along the left wing's underside. "And here," he flicked the wing edge to draw Optimus's attention to it. "They're more sensitive towards the end."

With that little snippet of information, Optimus immediately took the tip into his mouth.

Skywarp convulsed and whined as Optimus twirled his tongue around the edge, then sucked on it. Skywarp was squirming and hot beneath him, his shapely thighs falling open to let Optimus rest between them. They rocked and rolled on the berth together in time to the deafening music shaking the small apartment. At some point in all their shifting and fumbling, Skywarp lifted a leg out to the side and Optimus slotted into him like they'd been made to fit together.

And by the ancient Primes was it good.

And, as unalike Starscream as Optimus had assumed Skywarp was, they certainly seemed to share the same make of vocaliser. He would have switched his audials off, but he didn't want to miss a word of Skywarp's cries.

* * *

Hours later, Skywarp woke to the berth shaking and the covers slipping away from his wings. Suddenly cold, he scrambled for them, but his knuckles clanged against solid armour.

Surprised, he flicked his optics online to find a guilty-looking Optimus half out of his berth, frozen above him with one leg swung over Skywarp's hips and the other on the floor. It couldn't be morning as it was still dark outside. Skywarp consulted his chrono, and scowled. It was hours before dawn.

"Don't tell me the _Prime_ was about to hit me and quit me?"

Optimus had the good grace too look ashamed. "I ...didn't want to overstay my welcome."

Skywarp surged up and wrapped his arms around his neck, tugging him back down into the berth. Optimus grunted when his hand slipped out from under him and he fell into the covers, face first. Skywarp used the opportunity to wrap all four of his limbs around Optimus and _cling_. "Please stay."

He felt Optimus stiffen, and feared the Prime was trying to think up some way of letting him down lightly. Fear gripped Skywarp's spark - that this had been another fling, another Autobot wanting to roll with a seeker just to sate a long term curiosity now that it wasn't an act of treachery to do so.

Optimus turned his head out of the pillow to look at him, and with his battle-mask still retracted, Skywarp could see the cautious, hopeful smile growing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course I'll stay. I want to stay."

Electro-flies buzzed about in Skywarp's fuel tanks. He felt giddy and hot and anxious all at once. "You sure? I am an ex-con remember. You're sure Elita won't disapprove of you associating with me?"

"No more than Starscream will disapprove of you seeing me, I imagine."

Skywarp's noise crinkled, "Starscream married a war criminal, so he's not the best judge of character anyway."

Optimus smiled lightly. "You realise many consider _me_ war criminal as well?"

"I guess my trine have a type," Skywarp sat up and swung a leg over Optimus's chest. His smile faltered a little when he thought a little too much about how alike Optimus and Megatron really were. Oh Primus, they _did_ have a type-

"What's wrong?" Optimus murmured, noticing his constipated expression.

"Nothing," Skywarp shook those awful, awful thoughts about being similar to Starscream in anyway from his head. "You wanna 'face again?"

Optimus's brow creased. "You're not going to put that rock music on again, are you?"

Skywarp's mood dipped. "You don't like it?"

"Not when it means I can't hear you moan," Optimus murmured promisingly, voice deepening and doing _something_ to Skywarp's delicate little spark.

He shivered. His internals clenched and pulsed. "If I'm not moaning loud enough, maybe that's on you?" He teased.

Optimus began to sit up, and even sat in his lap, Skywarp felt giddy at how much taller and broader he was than him.

The next day, when the official noise complaint came through, Skywarp realised belatedly that he probably shouldn't have teased the Prime. Especially when Optimus took it upon himself to nail the document to the wall above the berth. Just as a reminder.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiding their relationship had been easier than expected. At least, at first it had been. Skywarp wasn't so well known a mech as Optimus was; and his comings and goings were of little interest to both the media and the planet at large. He was known to many simply as Starscream's Purple Trine-Mate. The one who teleported.   
  
Optimus had never been one for secrecy. After so many years at war, dealing with deception and intel and saboteur work, peacetime honesty was a pleasant change. Not having to worry so much about what he said, how he said things, his body language, his closely guarded expressions, even behind a mask.   
  
But unfortunately, war or no, unlike Skywarp he was not anonymous. He was still watched, trailed, and scrutinised by anyone and anything with an agenda. It was a small relief to know that his daily decisions and actions would no longer result in the deaths and injuries of those who followed him. But even in their fractionally gentler post-war world, he and Skywarp were simply not ready to face the full brunt of the planet's attention.   
  
Not when they were what had become common to refer to as a 'cross faction affair' (despite the factions no longer existing) and not when Skywarp was so close to Starscream. And him to Elita. Two mecha still very much in the public limelight.   
  
Mechs would talk, they would speculate on the nature their still new and fragile relationship. And there would be a lot to say. They weren't exactly a couple most would have put together. Skywarp had something of an infamous reputation during the war, among his _own_ faction at that. And Optimus was, well, he was the Prime.   
  
Optimus could already envision what would be said- that their relationship was a faux to get dirt on each other's candidate? That he was having a post-war identity crisis and Skywarp was an attractive fling to boost his ego? That he was a Con Sympathiser -a title that some of the more troublesome fanatical media outlets had come up with.   
  
Perhaps he was a Con Sympathiser. Would that be so terrible? They were a little rough around the edges but they weren't criminals for Primus's sake. Anymore than his Autobots had been.  
  
Well ...some of them were criminals, but he was certain Skywarp was not. At any rate he tried not to think about it a great deal.   
  
Fortunately, most of their interactions in public were under the guise that it was merely boring campaign business. Elita and Starscream crossed paths regularly on their rival trails, and when they split off to threaten and argue with one another away from the cameras and eavesdroppers, throwing dirt and blackmail back and forth, there was nothing out of the ordinary in seeing Optimus Prime strike up a casual conversation with one of Starscream's trine-mates. It was only polite, after all.   
  
That they were actually making arrangements to later end up entwined together in Optimus's luxurious apartment was frankly none of their business.   
  
"I'm free tonight. I'll come over," Skywarp ended their conversation with a hurried whisper, just as Starscream whipped around with a flash of glossy wings to stomp back in their direction.   
  
"I'll comm you the security codes," Optimus winked, his tanks twirling already in anticipation of the evening ahead.   
  
"What codes?!" Starscream's indignant voice snapped. He stopped between them, looking back and forth. "Why am I always catching the two of you sneaking off to have little chats together?"   
  
"Like you and Elita?" Skywarp queried.   
  
Starscream turned an interesting shade of purple, a vibrant colour to rival Skywarp's paint.   
  
"We're late!" He snarled, abruptly changing the subject. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping us on schedule?!"   
  
Skywarp typed something on the data-pad he was holding, muttering under his breath, "I should start scheduling in your rants then..."   
  
"Can't get the staff these days," Starscream lamented, rolling his optics at Prime. "Honestly, Skywarp, what am I even paying you for?"   
  
"You're _paying me_?!" Skywarp exclaimed.   
  
At the risk of being embarrassed in front of the Prime any further, Starscream stormed off in a strop. Skywarp winked at Optimus before following, his wings bouncing with every hurried step. "Screamer, wait up!"   
  
"Are you smiling under there?"   
  
Optimus jumped at Elita's voice, whipping around to face her. Once again he was thankful for the battle-mask hiding his dazed smile. "No, I was merely lost in thought-"  
  
"Staring at pretty purple wings?" She teased.   
  
Optimus was probably now that same shade of purple under his mask.   
  
He cleared his vocaliser, but Elita didn't push it any further. As far as she knew he was merely appreciating the enviably shapely figure of a seeker, something any functioning mech did. It was in most mecha's programming, even ground based frame types, to find wings appealing.   
  
And Optimus rather liked Skywarp's -especially pinned under his hands as he drove into the seeker's-  
  
"Optimus?"  
  
"Sorry!" He blurted, and walked swiftly to catch up with her.   
  
He needed to claw back some semblance of self control. Their relationship wouldn't stay hidden for long if he fell to drooling pieces every time the dazzlingly seeker so much as glanced his way.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Optimus had once envisioned a future for himself after the war - with a conjunx who shared his ideals, his experiences, his hobbies. They would have a quiet, dignified retirement, far away from the aftermath of the war and the hectic stress of post-war life. He would imagine wiling away long afternoons in berth with them, waking early to watch the sun rise together, staying up late to count the stars. They would drink energon wine over candlelit holograms and talk about nothing and everything all at once.   
  
His current situation held little similarities to that dream scenario, yet, it was all the more perfect for it's unexpected differences.   
  
Evening arrived and shortly before the streetlights below bloomed to life, Skywarp came barrelling into his apartment without so much as a 'hi, how was your day?"   
  
He flung a record on and turned up the speakers as high as they would go, a noise just loud enough to cover the resounding clang of him colliding with Optimus in their entry way - and whatever other noises that may inevitably follow.   
  
He smelt of the same rich expensive polish as Starscream did, an oaky, smokey sort of smell, something a little too fast and fierce for what Optimus would have expected. He preferred Skywarp's natural scent, but wouldn't dare presume to dissuade him from stealing his trine-mate's overpriced polish, not if it was something he enjoyed.   
  
He retracted his face-mask and buried his olfactory in his neck cables, where stolen polish couldn't reach and Skywarp's smell was at it's most natural. His scent clung to the cables, such an intoxicating smell Optimus had to lick the warm fuel lines into his mouth to suck on them indulgently. Skywarp writhed on top of him. Optimus buried his hands in the wires and hinges of the seeker's wings and rolled them, knocking them against the leg of the sofa and shunting the heavy furniture across the floor.   
  
Then Skywarp was beneath him, caged between his hands and knees.   
  
The seeker laughed; a soft, yet devious noise, his fingers exploring the edges of Optimus's windshield.   
  
"Long day?" Skywarp asked, and it was maddeningly unfair how he could throw himself at Optimus with such uninhibited passion one moment, and strike up a casual conversation the next.   
  
Optimus ached for him, tearing his mouth away from his neck to breath, "Something like that..."   
  
Skywarp's hands slipped lower, cupping his codpiece and palming it expertly. Optimus got down from his knees to rest atop the seeker, sliding his arms under his back to hold him close and press their frames tightly together.   
  
"Starscream's being a real pain." Skywarp continued, casually fingering a sensitive seam on Optimus's abdomen. "This election's got him wound tighter than a Syon spring."   
  
Optimus hummed noncommittally, wanting to talk about anything but work. His panel retracted and his spike filled into Skywarp's hand. Skywarp stroked him softly, fingers ghosting up and down his shaft, then squeezing lightly at the base. Optimus grunted.   
  
Skywarp moved beneath him, shifting his weight to his upper back and shoulders and lifting his thrusters off the floor, holding his legs aloft and bent. Optimus wedged himself between them, grinding his spike against the seam of Skywarp's panel. He could feel the dampness beneath seeping through the seams.   
  
Skywarp's legs locked about his waist and tugged him closer. His panel slid away with a neat little click. They kissed and shifted together, until Optimus was pressing smoothly into him, enveloping himself in tight heat.   
  
Skywarp flexed around him, tense for a pause, before relaxing and dragging him deeper. Optimus sank his full length inside him before starting to roll his hips back and forth, following the beat of the deafening, fast-paced rock music. He was already getting carried away by his need and the atmosphere. Skywarp moaned and gasped and egged him on, letting him frag him on the hard floor, knocking him back against the sofa and bumping it across the decking.   
  
Skywarp flung his helm back with a sharp cry, smacking it against the floor with a solid _thawk_ as he overloaded, valve clamping down in tight, rhythmic pulses, in time with the soft hitches of his vents.   
  
Optimus shuddered at the sensation and hung his helm between his shoulders, centering himself before he followed too soon.  
  
As Skywarp began to settle and relax again, he started to move, focusing his audials on the seeker's weak gasps of his given name. He gripped the tops of Skywarp's thighs and hauled him back into his last few driving thrusts. He sped up as his climax approached, hissing through his vents until his breath stopped coming. He held it, slamming his spike deep, then finished, deflating above Skywarp's frame as he emptied himself in just a handful of weak ebbing bucks.  
  
He muttered a very un-Primely curse.   
  
"Such language," Skywarp teased, sprawled and used but beautiful beneath him, his wings askew and his pink cheeks filled with energon. Optimus dipped to kiss those cheeks, one at a time. Skywarp turned his helm with an embarrassed snort. "You're such an Autobot."  
  
"Oh, am I?" Optimus teased back, kissing down his neck now.   
  
"A corrupted Autobot," Skywarp sighed softly, curling his arms around him. "You scuffed up my wings."   
  
Optimus murmured an apology, mouth shifting to them next. To make the most of his attention Skywarp rolled onto his front and hitched his wings up, keen for some pampering. Optimus wasn't quite that generous though. He kissed the centre, stroked the edge, then patted Skywarp's rump to get him to roll back over, getting a knee under himself to begin to rise.   
  
Joints creaked loudly. Optimus groaned. He was far too old to be fragging seekers on the floor. What had he been thinking?!  
  
A pouting Skywarp rose after him, much less adversely effected by their lack of control and impromptu choice in 'facing location. "This is some cruddy retirement you know."   
  
Optimus glanced at him, concerned at the resentment he heard in the usually upbeat seekers' voice. "It is?"   
  
"Not you?" Skywarp amended quickly. "You're the only good part."   
  
Optimus studied him a moment, focusing in on the sad fade of his optics. He reached for Skywarp to stroke a thumb across a soft cheek. "You miss Thundercracker."   
  
It was an easy guess.   
  
"Yeah," Skywarp admitted, looking away. "But I miss you too."   
  
"I am right here." Optimus reminded him, surprised. "We see each another every cycle. More so when our respective campaigns cross paths-"  
  
"Yeah, and we act like we barely know each other," Skywarp frowned. "And if anyone ever knew that we did, you know - _know_ each other, they'd never shut up about it. How it'd never last. How I'm a fling. How I'm not good enough for you-"  
  
"That is ridiculous and untrue-" Optimus began sternly.   
  
"You said we should go to Earth," Skywarp murmured, "Remember? When we first met? When you couldn't tell I was flirting with you?"  
  
"I do remember," Optimus agreed cautiously. "But with the current political climate, our friends need us-"  
  
"Starscream only needs me to get his energon and shine his crown," Skywarp huffed. "We should go to Earth. Now. Before the election. Maybe we should never come back?!"   
  
Optimus frowned. "I-"  
  
"No one would care that you're a Prime there either! I mean, they would care. They know who you are, but they wouldn't _care-care_. Not like people here do. On Earth you're just a novelty. A character even. Like Batman."   
  
Optimus wasn't entirely sure being a 'novelty' would be good thing.   
  
"It's something to think about," He acknowledged, seeing how much it meant to Skywarp. "Seeing Thundercracker would be good for you-"  
  
"You could meet TC! And his pony." Skywarp bounced on his heels excitedly.   
  
"I already know Thundercracker."   
  
"But not as my boyfriend you don't!"   
  
Boyfriend- a organic term Skywarp had picked up from Primus-knew where. Though now that he thought about it he suspected Thundercracker himself was the culprit there. His fondness of human terms and concepts had rubbed off on Skywarp too it seemed.   
  
But the longer Skywarp spent convincing him, the more appealing it began to sound.   
  
He and Skywarp had reached the point in their relationship where they felt comfortable enough to branch out as a couple, but the full scrutiny of the planet would be too much as this stage. If they were to come out as a couple it would need to be to trustworthy parties, but many of Optimus's closest friends, well... He wasn't sure how they would react to him being with a former Decepticon.   
  
And on Skywarp's end there was _Starscream_.   
  
Skywarp had said himself his trine-leader was poisonous to any and all relationships both he and Thundercracker had ever had. In Skywarp's opinion, Starscream didn't _ever_ need to know about them.   
  
Whereas Thundercracker, from what Optimus had seen and heard of him, was much more accommodating. And he owned an organic pet -a sentient-being that required a great deal of patience and care. Proof of his compassion and commitment to those he cared for.   
  
He was definitely the best person to include in the secrecy of their relationship.   
  
A shame he didn't live closer...   
  
Skywarp stared up at him with big pleading optics. "Buster's a really good pony," he reassured. "She pees outside and everything."   
  
How could Optimus resist such heartfelt plea.   
  
"Alright, perhaps a trip to Earth would be a welcome break."   
  
Skywarp's following unsportsmanlike air-punch of victory was already making Optimus regret his decision.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
They arrived at the space-bridge at different times to avoid the notice anyone that might recognise them together. Optimus waited half a breem before he heard thrusters break the tranquility of the still sky. Clouds parted and separated, and a moment later Skywarp was dropping to the platform at maximum velocity, clearly showing off when he landed on one foot with exaggerated flourish, arms raised and head back to receive applause.   
  
Optimus smiled in spite of himself.   
  
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."   
  
"Left without you more like," Skywarp winked, approaching him with clear excitement.   
  
When he was close enough Optimus spied the external communication system on his wrist, blinking with an incessant amber light- usually the sign of a high priority message. Skywarp dismissed it without a word. "Ready?"   
  
"Of course," Optimus took his arm, but noticed the comm had again begun to blink.   
  
"Shouldn't you-?"  
  
"It's just Screamer," Skywarp muttered, switching off the comm again. "He's not happy about me taking 'unauthorised leave'." He pulled a face.   
  
"I hadn't realised you actually worked for him."  
  
"I don't!" Skywarp protested. "I'm a 'volunteer'," he mocked sarcastically. "A hostage, more like. He thinks he's the boss of me now that TC's on Earth. Like I need watching over."   
  
The comm began to blink again. Optimus wisely didn't point it out this time.   
  
"We should go," Skywarp gripped his hand tightly. "Quickly. I don't know for sure that he'd doesn't have a tracking chip in my processor. Or someone following me. Or might a hire a bounty hunter!"   
  
Optimus didn't know Starscream as well as Skywarp did, but felt those were exaggerated worries. "Now I'm sure he-"  
  
Skywarp _Looked_ at him and Optimus cut himself off. Or perhaps they were entirely justified fears. This _was Starscream_ after all.   
  
They approached the space-bridge hand in hand. Optimus began entering coordinates for Earth, bypassing the security system with his own unique code. Being the Prime didn't have it's perks, and technically, as a 'private citizen' now, it wasn't quite so bad when he abused them anymore.   
  
"So how'd Elita take you leaving in the middle of campaign?" Skywarp asked as they waited for the bridge to power up, the air in it's centre starting to ripple as space and reality was bent and reshaped. "Did she call you a traitor and throw things at you?"  
  
Optimus would have been concerned if not for Skywarp's smile. "No. I mentioned I needed some time away. She suggested the break."   
  
Skywarp was silent for a moment, "She sounds pretty cool actually. Is she hiring? Does she pay you?"   
  
"No, and no."   
  
"Still," Skywarp shrugged. "If I'm not getting paid I might as well not get paid by someone who lets you take vacations."   
  
"Will Starscream be alright in your absence?" Optimus asked, feeling a modicum of sympathy for the third and final member of the elite trine. "Thundercracker is his trine-mate as well. He might feel left out?"  
  
"He's got Megatron." Skywarp reminded him. "And trust me, he doesn't go to Earth unless he absolutely needs to. And even then-" Skywarp shuddered. "He's pretty close to being slapped with a travel ban for most other planets, so lets just leave it at that."   
  
Optimus nodded just as the space-bridge spiralled into life in front of them. Optimus felt an unexpected wave of nerves at the prospect of meeting with someone so important to Skywarp, as a prospective mate. He needed this to go well. Both with Thundercracker and his dog.   
  
"Come on," Skywarp gave him an encouraging tug forward, and with one steadying breath, Optimus followed him through.  
  


* * *

  
It was late spring on Earth. The trees were lush and green, the cornucopia of flowers and weeds in full bloom. The warm air had drawn the humans out and about, and plenty of them were enjoying the parks and streets, basking in the radiation of their sun.   
  
Amongst all the humans in the park -children playing with balls, young couples strolling arm-in-arm, families having picnics- Thundercracker, as a thirty foot, deep blue, armoured jet, was unsurprisingly easy to spot in the tranquil piece of land carved out of the city.   
  
He was sat on the grass next to the tree line, out of the way of most humans. Buster was running up and down his extended legs, barking at anyone passing them on the nearby path, defending her master from any suspicious looking humans and their pets, and only occasionally trying to steal someone's frisbee.   
  
As they entered the park Thundercracker looked up and noticed them immediately- naturally, as they were _also_ thirty feet (more so, in Optimus's case) taller than the average park goer and made of metal.

A smile that gleamed in the sun stretched across Thundercracker's face and he lifted a hand to wave - before faltering when he realised the red and blue figure with Skywarp was clearly _not_ who he had expected.   
  
As they approached- Skywarp leaping off ahead of him, leaping over entire groups of flinching humans- Optimus got a better look at the poleaxed expression on Thundercracker's face. He was so surprised he didn't react at all when Skywarp dropped to his knees, armour digging up the neatly cut grass, and scared the Unmaker out of poor Buster when he threw his arms around his trine-mate in a desperate, clinging hug.   
  
Buster jumped out from between them and started barking at them both from the sidelines, jumping onto her hind legs to make herself heard. Optimus waited with her for the two seekers to separate. Only then did Thundercracker blink and hug his trine-mate back.   
  
"Er, Skywarp?"   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Thundercracker's optics darted between his trine-mate and Optimus worryingly.  
  
Skywarp pulled back, frowning. "Not unless Starscream made good on his threat to put a hit out on me. Why?"   
  
Instead of answering, Thundercracker just looked at Optimus pointedly.   
  
Feeling uncomfortable, Optimus cleared his vocaliser, softening his gaze and disposition as best he could before addressing the mech he had come to impress. "It is good to see you, Thundercracker," he greeted warmly. "And you, Buster."   
  
Buster barked and ran in exited circles at his pedes.   
  
"Prime," Thundercracker greeted, tone unreadable.   
  
Optimus extended a hand to help Skywarp back to his pedes. He offered Thundercracker the same, but there was noticeable hesitation before his hand was taken. Optimus did his best to ignore how clammy the blue seeker's hand felt in his own. He was clearly nervous. Perhaps even a little distrusting.   
  
Optimus began to worry about what his reaction would be to learning he and Skywarp were ...involved. The way Skywarp spoke of his trine implied there were some unresolved possessive feelings between them. Perhaps Thundercracker wouldn't be so accommodating after all. Perhaps this was too soon.   
  
Skywarp seemed to pick up on his worries, because he wet his lips nervously, hovering in the space between the both of them. Silence lingered after the greeting, but getting the words out wasn't made any easier by Buster's constant barking.   
  
"Hey, it's okay," Thundercracker flushed in embarrassment and quickly crouched to her level. He cupped his hands together, allowing her to jump in. "It's only Skywarp."   
  
Buster grumbled unhappily in his hand, sniffing the palm Optimus had touched with noticeable suspicion.   
  
"So er, you know Optimus," Skywarp began nervously, gesturing to him with a thumb.   
  
Thundercracker nodded blankly.   
  
Skywarp made a few vague hand gestures for a while, unable to get any more words out.   
  
"Skywarp?" Optimus pressed, growing amused despite the tenseness of the situation. "Would you rather I-?"  
  
"No," Skywarp hissed quietly, flapping a hand at him, though Thundercracker could obviously hear him anyway. He started again, with a deep breath. "We're ...me and Optimus-"  
  
"You and Optimus?" Thundercracker repeated the trailed off sentence suspiciously. "Are you...?" Something seemed to click. His optics widened. "You're not-?!"  
  
"Fragging," Skywarp finished for him , blurting it out, to Optimus's utter mortification. A beat passed where Thundercracker stared at him blankly before Skywarp shook his helm and quickly corrected himself, "No wait! I mean, well, yes of course we're- but that's not all we're doing-!"  
  
"We're together," Optimus explained simply, but it didn't help sooth away the shock on Thundercracker's face.   
  
"You're-?" He glanced between them. "Is this a prank?"  
  
"No," Skywarp exclaimed. "You think I have the resources to drag Optimus Prime halfway across the galaxy just to prank you?"   
  
Thundercracker was dumbstruck, "...Do you?"   
  
"No!"   
  
  


* * *

  
  
After getting over the initial shock Thundercracker and Optimus exchanged awkward niceties and occupied their reoccurring silences with exuberant interest in Buster. When Optimus bent to dote on her she wagged her tail so hard and fast her little body wriggled back and forth and she almost lost balance. Something in Thundercracker's gaze softened, and it renewed Skywarp's dwindling hope a little.   
  
If Optimus could win over the fluffy squirrel, Thundercracker would be no problem at all.   
  
When Buster brought Optimus a stick almost as big as she was and urged him with incessant barking into tossing it for her, Skywarp saw an opportunity to see what his trine-mate was really thinking, and pulled him to one side under the guise of them discussing the cloud formations- an excruciatingly boring conversational topic that Optimus clearly assumed must have been of interest to seekers because he didn't so much as blink.   
  
Grounders. All the same.   
  
"So?" Skywarp began, smiling up at the clouds. "What do you think?"   
  
"Of you and Prime?" Thundercracker was frowning at a cloud. "Did - Starscream didn't organise this, did he? He's not pimping you out to get the traditionalist vote, is he?"  
  
"What?" Skywarp hissed. "No. He doesn't even know."   
  
Thundercracker looked concerned, "You haven't told him?"   
  
"I only just told you," Skywarp scowled. "I thought you'd be happy."   
  
"Of course I'm-" Thundercracker stopped himself short of telling blatant lies. "I'm just surprised. I didn't think ...I just thought you'd end up with someone more your type."   
  
"My type?"   
  
Thundercracker shrugged. "Like Astrotrain."   
  
" _Astrotrain_?!' Skywarp blanched. "You want me to settle down with Astro?!"  
  
"Settle down?" Thundercracker's optics bulged. "You, _Skywarp_ , are thinking of settling down? With Prime, no less?!"   
  
Skywarp hushed him quickly, heat filling his cheeks. "I mean, eventually. Eventually settle down." He glanced back at Optimus. "Come on, you gotta admit I've done well."   
  
Thundercracker did not look impressed. "Just tell me this isn't you trying to one-up Starscream?"   
  
Skywarp's mouth fell open. "I don't need to one-up Starscream because in what universe does a war criminal under house arrest compare to the fragging Prime?"   
  
Thundercracker rolled his optics, "I just hope you know what you're doing."   
  
Skywarp couldn't believe it. "So you don't approve of _my_ choice in company when you're here on Earth making nice with the _humans_ and living with a _badger_? When _Starscream's_ conjunxed a diagnosed megalomaniac?! You didn't get all disapproving with him."   
  
"Don't say it like that," Thundercracker grumbled. "And I don't bother with Star because he'd just dig his heels in harder."   
  
"I'm just saying it like it is."   
  
"Since when have you sought after my approval anyway?" Thundercracker smirked. "I thought I was boring and weird?"   
  
Skywarp pouted, "Who said I care what you think?"   
  
"You did, when you dragged Optimus Prime back to Earth just so he could try and impress me by playing fetch with my dog."   
  
They glanced back at Optimus, who was gracefully giving Buster a fighting chance at winning their game of tug of war over the stick. Skywarp's spark soared at the endearing sight.   
  
Next to him Thundercracker's shoulders slumped. "You're sure this isn't politics?"  
  
Skywarp scowled.   
  
"Alright, alright," Thundercracker held up his hands. "But you should tell Screamer. Because if he finds out from someone else. From a human, no less..."   
  
"What human?"   
  
"One of the many hundreds to have seen you prancing through the flowers with Optimus today?" Thundercracker arched a clever brow.   
  
"Fine, maybe I'll comm him," Skywarp lifted his wrist in consideration. "By the time we're back on Cybertron he might have calmed down."   
  
Thundercracker cringed. "Not likely."   
  
"Yeah I know."   
  
  


* * *

  
  
They met up with Marissa as the sun dipped below the horizon and the park lights glowed into life. Optimus sat on the cool grass next to Skywarp, who had reclined on his back to stargaze. Optimus studied the way his dark frame stretched out, enraptured with the way the stars overhead reflected off the glass of his cockpit. They sat waiting as Thundercracker and Marissa argued over how to set up the outdoor projector to play their movie.   
  
After a great many games of fetch Buster had fallen asleep, and worried she'd be cold in the night air Thundercracker had placed her inside his cockpit, a move that had revolted Skywarp so deeply he'd wretched like a melodramatic adolescent who'd just seen their parent's kiss. Apparently, it was _unnatural_ to let organics sit inside you, implying Skywarp had never done such a crass thing himself.   
  
Optimus wondered if that was at all true. Either way, he was too amused to be embarrassed by Skywarp's dramatics.   
  
Having grown more than used to seekers, Marissa didn't comment either. They left him to roll around on the grass until the stars caught his attention.   
  
"What are we watching?" Optimus asked once the projector had finally been set up, unsure if it would be appropriate to cuddle up to Skywarp in front of his trine-mate. Thundercracker hadn't yet reacted to their relationship with the expected gusto and he didn't want to create unnecessary tension by fawning all over Skywarp.   
  
"It's one of Thundercracker's," Marissa explained, pressing play on the projector and then running the distance back to them to take a seat on Thundercracker's ankle, off the chilly grass. The screen of white fabric she had set up flickered to life with shifting pictures like a prehistoric version of a holo-screen.   
  
"Thundercracker's?" Optimus murmured, recalling the one Thundercracker written and directed film that he knew of. He wasn't sure he could sit through a feature length production titled 'Starscream: the movie.'  
  
"Not that one," Skywarp seemed to read his mind and leant in to reassure him, and regardless of his trine-mates proximity, sat up and shifted to lean against him, looping an arm through his own. Optimus stiffened and shot a glance at Thundercracker, but the blue seeker was busy peaking into his cockpit, too distracted with Buster's comfort to notice them.   
  
"Just count yourself lucky," Skywarp murmured quietly as the opening credits continued to roll; Set Design: Thundercracker, Casting Director: Thundercracker, Special Thanks To Buster The Dog...  
  
"Why is that?" He asked softly.   
  
"'Starscream: The Movie' isn't all that bad compared to some of his stuff."   
  
"He's won awards," Optimus pointed out, wondering why he was the one defending Skywarp's trine-mate. The competitiveness of trine's always felt a little like sibling rivalry to him.  
  
"Yeah, for _this_ movie." Skywarp pointed, "but TC doesn't always have the best taste."  
  
"And you do?"   
  
"Better than my trine," Skywarp nudged him. "You know Starscream wanted Thundercracker to direct and film his conjunxing ceremony?"   
  
"I wasn't aware a ceremony could _be_ directed."  
  
"Wasn't much of a ceremony. Megatron was still under house arrest so they did it on the roof of their apartment building. He was in handcuffs and everything."  
  
Whatever Skywarp thought to the idea of filming it, Optimus would have paid good money to see _that_ footage.   
  
"Our ceremony will be much classier," Skywarp murmured casually, dropping his helm to his shoulder.   
  
It took a beat for what he'd said to sink into Optimus's processor. It was a strange thing, to be able to look forward to his future rather than to dread it.   
  
When he turned back to the movie playing on the screen Thundercracker must have heard their whispering and was looking back at them. Optimus felt caught for a moment, before Thundercracker's expression softened into a smile. He looked at Skywarp, clinging to Optimus's arm before turning back the screen with something that seemed like acceptance.   
  
Optimus might have also glimpsed Marissa's wry smirk out of the corner of his optic. She reached out and patted Thundercracker's calf in fond approval.   
  
Optimus lifted his gaze away and refocused on Thundercracker's award winning film, letting his arm lift from the grass to curl around Skywarp's warm side.   
  


* * *

  
  
The weekend passed much more quickly than Optimus had expected it to, and for all his initial reluctance to leave Cybertron and come to Earth with Skywarp, he was now experiencing similar feelings about leaving it.   
  
Though that may have had something to do with Skywarp using Thundercracker's lost distance comm to inform Starscream of his new relationship the night before.   
  
"I'm taking bet's, if you're interested," Marissa offered, leaning over the railing of her platform as she watched Skywarp say his long lingering goodbyes to Thundercracker.   
  
"On what?" Optimus asked curiously.   
  
"What's going to be on Cybertron waiting to greet you and Skywarp?" She smiled. "Thundercracker has put his money on a crowd of paparazzi, suddenly very informed on your illicit love affair with a Decepticon, waiting to take a hundred incriminating pictures of you to run with wildly inaccurate and borderline insulting headlines."   
  
Optimus hummed. That was always a likelihood. One he had long ago braced himself for. "And your bet?"   
  
"Same as Skywarp's," Marissa shrugged, "Starscream himself, with a big gun."   
  
Optimus smiled beneath his mask, far less concerned of that. "He doesn't strike me as the overprotective type."   
  
"He's not going to be there to shoot _you_ , Optimus," she told him lightly, which ballooned Optimus's concern right back up again.   
  
Once again Optimus was struck by how flippant everyone was over Starscream's violent tendencies. He wondered how Megatron was faring stuck in a house with him. For the first time since the war ended he found himself worrying over his old adversary...   
  
"You ready to go?" Skywarp had finally detached himself from his trine-mate and leap up to take his arm.   
  
Behind him Thundercracker was holding Buster. His optics seemed somewhat watery.   
  
"We'll be back to visit again soon," Optimus reassured him. "Next Earth weekend, even?"   
  
That brightened Thundercracker's teary disposition greatly. He smiled brightly, and looked strikingly alike Skywarp doing it.   
  
"Maybe we'll even bring, Starscream?" Skywarp suggested.   
  
Thundercracker's smile slipped, "Maybe for a day trip." He said solemnly. He met Optimus's confused gaze and explained. "He shouts at Buster."   
  
"He shouts at everybody, maybe Buster should get over it," Skywarp reached out and gave her soft fluffy head a rub with his littlest finger. She wagged her tail and tried to lick him. "Uck, bad kitty."   
  
"Dog," Thundercracker corrected bluntly.   
  
After another round of goodbye -an activity which seemed endless between seekers who were trined and probably never should have been separated anyway- they approached the space-bridge and began to brace themselves.   
  
"Maybe it won't be that bad." Skywarp suggested.   
  
"Well what did Starscream say exactly?"   
  
"I would never repeat such phases to your Primely audials, Optimus," Skywarp bowed his helm in shame.   
  
Hand in hand, they stepped through.   
  
Optimus unshuttered his optics to a late night on Cybertron. The arrival platform was empty, save for one winged silhouette. Remembering Marissa's bet, Optimus side stepped in front of Skywarp to shield him from any potential attack.   
  
Starscream's crimson optics narrowed at him across the platform. "Welcome back."   
  
"Hey, Screamer," Skywarp bravely poked his head out from behind Optimus. "Nice of you to wait up for us."   
  
Starscream smiled, and it was an dangerous, unkind sort of smile. Shivers ran up Optimus's spinal strut. "I had my own motivations."   
  
"What are those? You gonna assassinate us?"   
  
"Nothing so merciful," Starscream purred, taking slow even steps towards them. "You see, now that you finally have a partner I won't be _embarrassed_ to interact with, the two of you can join Megatron and I for our dinner party tomorrow evening."   
  
Optimus frantically wracked his processor for an excuse to get out of it.   
  
Skywarp lifted a finger. "Actually, we're-"  
  
"Completely free," Starscream did that smile again. "I already checked." He turned on his heel and began flouncing away, throwing over his shoulder, "and bring energon-wine! You'll need it!"   
  
Optimus met Skywarp's gaze.   
  
"Back to Earth?" Skywarp thumbed at the bridge behind him.   
  
Optimus had never been so in tune with someone.   
  
"Oh, yes." He nodded, taking Skywarp's arm again and reactivating the space-bridge, trying not to think too hard on how much energy they were wasting doing this. "I couldn't agree more." 


End file.
